You loved Mondays specifically because they meant that Peter would be coming over. You lived pretty much alone in Stark Tower; of course your father was there and the occasional Avenger when in need of a home, but ever since the fallout of the Avengers, it had mostly been you and your dad.
At first you were upset when Wanda left and Steve stopped coming around. They were the extended family you never had. Vision was always around, but without Wanda he seemed lost.
So after you spent your day doing schoolwork at the kitchen table, you would take a break and make a snack that was usually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And always, as the clock ticked by the three, Peter would knock on the door.
You would run to it, leaving the plate with his sandwich on the kitchen counter, and throw open the door before Happy could do it. He would stand there with his backpack slung over one shoulder and a blissful smile on his face.
"Hey," he'd greet.
"Hi," you whispered.
He stepped inside and glanced around nervously. "Mr. Stark around?"
"No," you said softly.
He looked back at you as the door shut. "Good," he said, and his arms wrapped around you. He pulled you up on your tiptoes and swayed slightly, his eyes fluttering shut as your arms wrapped around his neck. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you, too," you said.
Being reduced to seeing your boyfriend only once a week (most of the time) was difficult. Even more difficult was knowing that you had to hide it from your best friend. Your dad.
You knew he would never agree to you having feelings for someone who could very well put you in danger. It was hard enough that he was a target. Because of that, he always kept you safe inside of your home - making it even harder to convince him to let you leave. Making it even harder to see the boy you'd fallen hard for.
You pulled back, sliding your hands down to his forearms. "I made you a snack," you said. "I wasn't sure if you had time to grab a sandwich at Delmar's."
Even though he did, he didn't say. "Yeah, I'm hungry," he said, grinning.
"Okay," you replied, smiling and lacing your fingers with his. You pulled him into the kitchen and he grabbed his plate.
You both stood together in silence, hand in hand, quietly chewing on the sandwiches you had prepared. You poured a glass of milk for Peter and as you did, he placed a single kiss on your cheek.
You blushed and scrunched your nose. "What was that for?"
He pushed a strand of hair out of your face. "You're just cute," he said, shrugging nervously. "I don't know. I just... I really missed you this week."
"Oh. Was it a hard week?" you asked, turning towards him.
"Sort of," he sighed. "I'm a little overwhelmed. And the weekend was too short. I just... I wish I had time with just us, you know? It sucks that I'm over here and I spend most of that time with your dad."
"I know," you said. "But he's got that new suit for you to work on. Maybe after this whole war thing passes..."
Peter hugged you again. You could tell he was on the verge of crumbling. He was too young to have the weight of the world on his shoulders.
You kissed the side of his head lightly. Then, trailing your lips across his cheek, planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Peter responded and turned his head, moving his mouth against yours.
"What in the - no, no, no."
You and Peter stepped back at once, eyes wide and hearts out of your chests. Your dad walked in, head shaking and hands waving.
"Dad-"
"No," he said again. "No!" He looked at Peter. "Underoos... you... what did I tell you? What did I specifically demand you not to do?"
"Go near your daughter," Peter stammered. "B-But-"
"No!" he said. "You did it anyway... I-I don't know what to say. I don't know what to say."
"Dad, don't get mad at him!" you exclaimed. "Neither of us planned to do this behind your back. I was even gonna tell you when you weren't so busy!"
Tony was growing more upset by the second. He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head, disappointment in his eyes. You weren't sure if it was pointed towards you or Peter.
"Dad," you said. "I don't see the big deal here. I'm dating Peter, okay? That's it."
"No," he said. For the first time, you heard your father used weak voice in front of you. "You're not. You can't."
"Why not?" you asked. "We're not children, Dad. We're teenagers. Teenagers date."
"You're not old enough," he declared.
"Dad, I'm sixteen!"
"That's not old enough!" he suddenly yelled. You jumped and fell silent. "Whatever this thing is can't go on. It's not worth you getting hurt because the kid is a hero and attracts enemies like crazy. It's bad enough that you were born into this. Don't add to it."
Peter looked at the floor, guilt flooding him. He blinked and sniffed, taking one step further from you.
"Dad," you pleaded, tears filling your eyes. "I'm fine."
He shook his head. "You should go to your room for a while." Without looking at him, he gestured to Peter. "I'll walk you out, kid."
Peter didn't even glance at you as he hurriedly walked to the front door, your father trailing behind him. You stood there with tears spilling onto your cheeks, unable to voice how unfair your life really was.
Outside, Peter's shoes squeaked against the tiled floor. His shoulders slumped and his stomach hurt. He had somehow managed to lose you and respect from Mr. Stark all in a moment.
"Kid..." he began, sighing heavily. "There's a lot you don't understand yet. There's a lot you don't understand about ___. If she ever lost you... I would never hear the end of that. It would crush her forever."
Peter sniffed and looked up at him.
Tony avoided his gaze. "There's a war coming. People are going to die. I can't do anything to keep her from getting hurt. She's going to lose someone." He shrugged, tears in his eyes. "All I can do is protect her the best I can."
"I-I'm sorry, sir," he mumbled. "I didn't mean-"
"I know you didn't, kid," Tony said. "And trust me, if things were different..." He cut himself off, rubbing a hand through the scruff on his chin. "If there weren't enemies, if there wasn't a threat... you two would be together. But that's not the way the world is. I just want to keep her safe from as much of it as I can."
Peter nodded. "Me too."
Tony sniffed and nodded with him. "Good. That's... that's good."
"I guess I'd better go," Peter muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you."
...
The war was approaching fast and you weren't allowed near any preparation for it. You remained locked in your room with music blaring in your ears and a stack of novels to keep you company.
You never saw your friends or, most importantly, Peter.
You only saw your father who you could hardly speak to. He knew you loved Peter as you had told him the night after he sent Peter away.
"___, sweetheart," he started, going to sit on the foot of your bed.
"Don't," you pleaded, no anger in your muffled voice. You buried your face deeper in the pillows under your head and felt the bed dip under his weight. "I get it, Dad."
"I just want you safe," he whispered.
"And I just want a life to live that's more than this," you replied.
"Oh... 'kay. Well, what do you need? More books? Music? You want to move rooms? When Pepper and I get married we'll probably move to the bigger room a floor up. You can have my room if you-"
"Dad, I don't want any of those things." You flopped over to meet his eyes. "I wanted Peter. I wanted a friend and someone that loved me in a way I never thought I would be loved. I wanted someone that understood me."
"I-I understand you," he said.
"No," you whispered. "You don't. B-Because you already did everything you ever wished to do. You fell in love, you had a daughter, you made all these friends. Dad... I don't have anyone. I have never gone to a normal high school or danced with someone at a dance or any of it! Peter was my first chance at all that. And now..." You wiped your nose. "I don't know, Dad. I just think... I fell in love with him a long time ago. I thought he loved me too but he just left without even trying to fight for me."
Tony's eyes widened. "That's not true."
"But it is," you insisted. You rolled back over. "I'm tired. Can you turn off the light?"
"Sure," he said slowly, blinking. He felt more stressed than ever as he got off your bed and walked to the door. He flipped the light off and paused, turning towards your cocooned form. "I love you, sweetheart."
There wasn't a reply, but he knew you regretted not saying it when he shut the door and you started to sob.
Now things were just tense.
But with the war drawing closer, you wished for something to change and go back to the way it was.
...
Peter landed roughly on his back, wincing as he heard bones crack and felt his breath get knocked out of him. His limbs curled up and his eyes snapped shut.
"Kid," Tony gasped next to him. He crawled forward on his belly, fingers curling around loose rocks in the ground. "Kid, look at me."
Peter couldn't focus on anything other than the pain. He whimpered and opened his tired eyes as he felt Tony grip his shoulder tight.
His eyes shifted to the side where Tony looked at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"For what? You're not giving up now," he said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.
"You were right to break me away from her," he said, nodding his head. "You were right. I-If I hadn't stopped things when I did, she would have expected me to come home to her. I would have crushed her, Mr. Stark."
"No, no, I was wrong," he said. "I was so wrong. I shouldn't have taken you away from her. She needs you and you need her. If you give up, kid, it'll still crush her. She loves you." He shook his head. "So don't you dare let her down now."
Peter's eyebrows furrowed. "She loves me?"
Tony nodded.
Peter relaxed. He blinked teary eyes and looked up at the sky. A tear slipped down his dirty cheek and he nearly smiled.
"I-I love her too," he coughed. "I love her so much, Mr. Stark-"
"Alright, well I don't really need a lot of detail," he interrupted. He painfully lifted himself up on his knees. "Come on, Underoos. I'm going to get you home in one piece."
...
As soon as everyone got home, you counted them. Through wet cheek kisses and tight hugs with weak arms, you embraced and thanked them for being alive. Natasha, Steve, Clint, Thor. Your family. Bruce, Vision, even your new friends Peter Quill and Stephen Strange.
Most importantly, your father.
He limped in with a bloodied and bruised Peter at his side. You cried out to your father and ran to him, throwing your arms around him and pressing your face against the chest plate against him.
"I'm okay," he breathed, catching the back of your head with a bare hand. He kissed the top of your hair and pressed his cheek there. "I'm fine."
You pulled back and smiled at him through your tears. "I was so worried, Dad... I love you so much. I was so worried-"
"Stop, kiddo. It's okay," he said, smiling. "We're here."
You sniffed and wiped your nose with the back of your hand. You glanced behind him and furrowed your eyebrows. "Where are the others? Where's... where's Wanda?"
Tony dropped his gaze and suddenly, with a plummeting sensation in your stomach, you knew. He held you close as you fell apart against him.
What surprised you was that as you cried, a new pair of arms circled around you. You allowed them to cradle you along with your father even though you knew who it was.
It didn't matter what had happened before. Everyone was grieving.
...
Natasha let you bandage up her arm while everyone lingered around quietly. It was silent as everyone pondered the extent of their grief.
You noticed that Peter lingered around you no matter where you went. You had risked several glances at him, meeting his sad brown eyes a few times.
When you finished wrapping up Natasha's arm she kissed your head and walked away. You felt your hand get pulled backwards seconds later; Peter's fingertips against your wrist.
He yanked you against him and you allowed it. You squeezed him tight and stained his sweater with tears as his hair dripped onto your face. He smelled of shampoo and, without the layers of dirt on his skin, you could count every bruise on him.
"The only reason I let myself leave is because I wanted to keep you safe," he explained softly. "I never wanted to hurt you in any way. I love you a lot. A lot. I'm sorry, ___."
You shook your head. "There's no reason to be sorry now, Peter. You came home and you're safe. That's all I wanted. I love you too." He kissed your head and you met your father's loving gaze.
He gave you one warm, adoring smile, and you knew you were safe.